“You okay?” he asked, ripping my shirt over my head before I could protest.
His hands ran over my torso, sliding up my belly and down each arm. Then his fingers were at my shorts, dragging them and my panties down my legs. My flip-flops had fallen to the edge of the bed at some point and he brushed them off with an impatient swipe.
“Oh, God,” he mumbled, his fingers anxiously searching for any injuries. “Oh, God.”
His voice was so agonized, my entire body locked up. I couldn’t even respond to his words or reassure him as he rolled me to my side so he could check my back.
“Bellatrix,” he groaned, burying his face between my breasts. His hands hurriedly tore at my bra straps, pulling my bra down my chest so he could feel the skin of my breasts against his face.
Tears ran down my face as I timidly raised my hands, wrapping them around the back of his head.
“You’re okay,” he breathed against my skin, one hand smoothing down my belly to right below my belly button. “Oh, God.”
A broken sob tore out of my throat as he shuddered.
“You’re okay,” he repeated over and over, keeping his face against me as he tore off his cut and threw it off the bed.
He raised his head and his pupils were so huge they almost eclipsed the blue of his eyes.
With a moan, his lips met mine. He kissed me harshly, pushing his tongue into my mouth in desperation, his hands coming up to frame my face tenderly.
“I love you,” he mumbled against my lips, “I love you.”
His lips never left me as he dragged them down my cheek to the hollow place beneath my jaw. He moved to my shoulder, my collarbone, my breasts, my sternum, and the place beneath my bellybutton, before tracing his way back up again. His fingers pushed and pulled, squeezing my ribs between his hands before moving to grip my hips.
“Cam,” I wheezed, trying to drag breath into my lungs as I pulled him upward so I could press my mouth against his again.
Then it was me pulling and pressing my hands against him frantically, tracing his ribs and belly and back with my fingers. I ripped at the button on his jeans, and he reached one hand down to help me shove them down his hips.
Then in one swift move, he was inside me.
Our first time without anything between us.
“Jesus,” he sobbed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
My chest heaved as he slid back and forth, his arms coming up to wrap around the sides of my head.
Cam’s left hand smoothed down my side to my thigh and he froze.
“Cam?” My voice wobbled.
His forehead hit my shoulder and I felt warm, wet liquid drip into the hollow of my collarbone.
Then he was up, pulling out of me and flipping my body facedown on the bed.
His entire body wrapped around me as he tilted my hips up and slid back inside.
“You’re okay,” he murmured against my shoulder, my hair catching in the scruff on his face. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
His thighs bracketed mine, his chest pressed to my back as one arm wrapped across my chest and the other settled on the bed, bracing him above me.
I reached back and gripped his head, holding his face against me as he thrust hard, over and over again. Tears leaked unchecked from my eyes as my body wound tighter and tighter, finally falling into a long, rolling orgasm as his body protected mine from the outside world.
“I love you,” I whispered, making his entire body heave with a sob.
* * *
“Your brother’s comin’ home,” Cam told me quietly as I sat on one of the couches in the main room of the clubhouse a few days later. “You wanna go see him?”
“No,” I replied, not looking up from the book I was reading. My nan had brought it to me the day before when she’d caught me staring off into space.
We were all staying at the clubhouse for the time being. Some of the members had chosen to send their families out of town, so shit wasn’t as crowded as it could have been, but it still sucked big time.
I hadn’t been back to the hospital. I refused to leave the clubhouse, even to go outside. I didn’t want to see anyone, and if most of the families hadn’t been outside at the moment, I would have been barricaded inside Cam’s room.
“He wants to see you,” Cam said patiently, pulling the book from my hands.
“I’ll go over tonight,” I snapped, reaching for my book.
“You can’t be there to welcome him home?” he argued, tossing the book across the room. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You walk around like a fuckin’ ghost all day. Only time I get a reaction outta ya is when I’m fuckin’ nailin’ ya.”